


Be There One More Time

by summerbutterfly



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Gen, Implied Reincarnation, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Mild Blood, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Side Story, mentions of Buddhism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 19:21:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20069233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerbutterfly/pseuds/summerbutterfly
Summary: A glimpse at Cho Gonou's world just prior to his sister's death.





	Be There One More Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [skysedge](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skysedge/gifts).

> Even though absolutely nothing went as planned for me this summer, I developed a fondness for this story the more I spent time with it. Happy Parallels, skysedge. I hope I didn't go too far out of line with this.
> 
> Also, eternal thanks to my Beta. She's put up with me for so long that any remaining mistakes are 100% my fault.

The ghost that haunted Cho Gonou’s study never failed to bring with it the strong smell of cigarette smoke when it materialized. Which, of course, was a more-than-reasonable explanation as to why said ghost was a ghost in the first place, but didn’t give much context to how and why this particular ghost was stuck between worlds, let alone in Cho Gonou’s house. It hadn’t been there when they’d moved in. At least, not as far as Gonou knew. And, it seemed, as far as Kanan knew considering the first time it showed up in the main part of the dining area, Kanan had nearly gone into cardiac arrest. 

“Who are you?” she’d shrieked. “Who are you and what are you doing in our house?”

At the time, the ghost didn’t answer. But it didn’t leave, either. Just meandered off to stare out the window in smoky silence as if they weren’t even there. As the hours went by, Gonou and Kanan concluded it wasn’t a malicious presence, and no harm was going to come to them, though that only did so much to ease their nervousness. A few days later, Gonou found himself making conversation, one-sided as it was, in an attempt to at least normalize the situation. Eventually however, the ghost did answer him back, and thus began the development of an awkward-but-endearing human/apparition friendship. Before long, the ghost was as much a part of daily life as anything else, and an unofficial third resident of the Cho abode. 

“You sure you’re not hungry?” Gonou, home from his teaching job early, opened the pantry, and rummaged through for something to cook. “I was thinking about making omurice if you want some. I didn’t stop at the market today, so I don’t have the ingredients for sukiyaki which, of course, would be Kanan’s preference, but my omurice is fairly good if I do say so.”

There was a ghostly sigh, and a thin, vaporous figure appeared on the opposite side of the room. “How many times do I have to tell you I’m not a Hungry Ghost?” it asked. “You’ve been pestering me about food every day for weeks now and the answer is always the same. No.” 

“I know, but it can’t hurt to keep trying, right?” Gonou pulled out the container of rice. “Considering you continue to have no idea who you are or what you want, maybe my asking will trigger some sort of past-life memory.”

“I know what I want,” the ghost said. “I want a vacancy to open up on the wheel of reincarnation so I can stop living like this and move on. As for past life memories, I’ve also told you over and over I have none. No ghost stuck between worlds does. The only consciousness I’m aware of is this one. Which isn’t much of a consciousness if you ask me.” 

“Now Peter, what have we said about wallowing in self-pity?” Kanan, also home, peeked at their wispy housemate from around Gonou’s shoulder. She’d taken to calling the ghost “Peter” when Gonou had asked if he was a _preta_, stating that it sounded similar enough, but lacked the negative implication that he was stuck here because he was being punished. “This is just temporary, right? Positive thoughts, positive karma!”

“I thought you were both raised Catholic,” Peter said, arching an indistinct eyebrow. “What are you worried about my Karma for?”

“We just want what’s best for you,” Gonou said. “Our religion doesn’t factor into that.”

“Hmmph,” Peter grunted, but then he always did. He didn’t seem to trust them, or anyone really, though he did at one point admit to sticking around because ‘they were the nicest couple he’d ever haunted.’

“How about I just leave a plate for you and we’ll see how it goes?” Gonou offered after a moment or two.

Peter, still across the room, hit him with some epic ghostly side-eye. “I swear to the Jade Emperor, dude, if you don’t knock it off…”

“Hm, sounds we don’t have a Hungry Ghost, we have a Hangry Ghost,” Kanan teased. “If you eat something, you might feel better, Peter.”

“Oh by the gods. You two are _impossible_,” Peter moaned, and Gonou couldn’t help laughing under his breath.

***

More weeks went by. Peter still hadn’t touched any of the food they’d offered him, but he still hadn’t vanished either, leading Gonou to conclude that more research needed to be done into Peter’s afterlife. As a result, he started spending a couple extra hours at work each day browsing through the library, looking for anything and everything he could find on wandering ghosts. Unsurprisingly, the amount of knowledge to be gained was vast, and Gonou’s time in the library got longer and longer, until one particular Thursday he looked up from a series of illustrations depicting an astounding number of shape-shifting youkai to find that it was already dark. 

That was why he wasn’t home when it happened.

“Kanan?” he called. Out of breath from running, Gonou looked around. The house was a mess. Furniture was broken and overturned, and there were signs of struggle everywhere. This place, this home he shared with the woman he loved, suddenly felt violent and unstable. “Kanan??” he called again, a bit more desperately this time, “Kanan where are you? Peter?”

Of all the times for his house ghost to have moved on to his next life, the timing couldn’t have been worse. Gonou was not one that could be left alone when angry and irrational. Maybe if Peter had been there, the next few hours would have been different.

Then again, maybe not.

***

He smelled like blood. And dirt. And now he was laying face down in a pool of bloody dirt with a wound guaranteed to kill him before sunrise. And yet, Gonou found he didn’t care. Kanan was gone. His humanity was gone. And with both of those went his will to live.

It was fine, though. Gonou hadn’t gone on a murdering spree intending to greet a new day. Part of him had hoped he would die faster than this, preferably by Kanan’s side, but death was death and this would have to do. He wondered absently if he’d run into Peter between worlds, or he would go straight to hell. Considering murder, in any faith, was irredeemable, Gonou mused it would be the latter, and he actually wished he’d had the foresight to hit the ground face-up so he could see the sky one last time. But alas, here he was, staring at this pathetic excuse for grass, too weak to move and too strong to die. Nothing less than he deserved, of course, but incredibly depressing to think about. 

It started to rain.

Gonou sighed as much as someone with their stomach ripped open could. Maybe if he closed his eyes, death would happen. Maybe he would drift off, never to wake again. Or maybe, if he couldn’t drift off, he could drown himself. Wait for a puddle to form and then just submerge his nose and mouth…

“Hey,” said a voice. “You dead?”

Was it possible to get chills when you were dying? Gonou’s research hadn’t yielded any such information, but then again, he hadn’t been searching for near-death entities. He’d been focused too much on those who had already passed on.

Perhaps that had been another one of his many, many mistakes. 

“Hey,” the stranger said again. “Hello? Anybody in there?”

It sounded like the speaker was standing at the other end of a long tunnel, but Gonou could still understand him. Words still made sense even if the bored, annoyed tone made Gonou want to snicker and roll his eyes. With a bit of his remaining strength, Gonou sought to lift his hand, sought to wave the stranger along and convey that none of this was his problem. But then, a peculiar smell hit him—an aroma so familiar that Gonou thought he might be sick. 

_Now you come,_ he thought. _Now. Of all times. Where were you hours ago when I needed you…when Kanan needed you…_

“Hey.” Boots appeared in Gonou’s line of vision. “You look like shit. If you want to die, fine but you gotta get out of the road. Okay?”

Slowly, Gonou turned his head toward the noise. It took so much effort he almost really did get sick, but he had to see. He had to know. He’d lost enough blood that there was no guarantee his eyes weren’t going to play tricks on him, but it didn’t matter. This stranger in the rain smelled of cigarettes. Of home. Of a fate Gonou may have met if he hadn’t made such a multitude of bad decisions.

Moving took so much effort. But he would do it. He would know before he left this realm who it was that had found him and been with him through his last moments. Part of him hoped he would find someone he knew. Part of him hoped he’d find nothing at all, and part of him wondered why he even cared. 

Gonou looked up. 

Fate, of course, refused to be kind. The stranger was nothing but a blur framed by a halo of red. Blood red. So…not Peter, but yet another yokai. Or perhaps Yama, the God of the underworld who judged souls in the afterlife. Still, the smell…the smell made Gonou’s throat clench, and the last functioning part of Gonou’s cognition wondered if maybe Peter had been Yama all along…

He was now too numb to feel. Too numb to think or care or wonder any more what all this meant, or why it was happening. He had been dead all this time and he hadn’t even realized. 

With his last conscious breath, Gonou laughed.


End file.
